The Things We Couldn't Forget

Chapter 33.

"Wait, what?" Kelsea's eyes go wide as she turns to me.

"That truck." I say again. "It's the same truck I saw parked on my road and it's the same one I saw downtown." I tell her.

"Are you sure?" She asks, her mouth hanging open.

"I'm fucking positive." I nod. "Look," I pull up YouTube and search for the video, hitting play. "Ok, watch." The video starts again, Amie waving to her coworker and walking out. "Right here." I point to the top of the screen where you can just see the front bumper of the truck where it is parked across the road.

Amie pulls away, and seconds later, the full truck enters the frame, going the same way as she had.

"Oh shit." Kelsea curses.

"You saw it right?" I ask even though I know she had. "It went the same way as her. It had been here, and there it is."

I jump up from the bed, the phone clutched tightly in my fist as I run down the stairs.

"Mayfield!" I call, rushing into the living room. "Look!"

I crouch beside the recliner and shove the phone into his face. "Why am I watching this?" He asks, pushing my hands back some so that he can actually see.

"Just watch." I say, pressing play on the video again.

"I've seen this."

"Shut up, just watch." He turns to give me a look but I point back at the phone. "Did you see that?"

"As I just told you," he sighs. "I've seen this video about a thousand times."

"The truck." I emphasize, sliding the bar at the bottom of the screen to play it back from where Amie pulls out of her spot.

"Ok." Mayfield turns to look at me. "What about the truck?"

I bounce on the balls of my feet. "There was a white truck just like that one parked on my road a few days ago and when I pulled out it sped off. White truck, no tag, back....right taillight, I think, was out." I explain quickly. "Then later that same day I saw it downtown again like it was following me."

Mayfield sits up straighter, taking the phone from me again. "You think this is the same truck you saw here?"

"It's the same truck." I nod with enthusiasm. "I'm telling you. That's the one."

Mayfield turns to look at Davenport sitting on the couch. "You got the surveillance footage from the 13th?" He asks him and Davenport reaches out to pull out his own laptop out of the bag on the ground.

I skip over to his side, watching him sign into the computer and scanning through different files on his desktop before clicking on videos with the corresponding dates we need.

Mayfield gets up lazily to come and stand behind the couch to watch over Davenport's shoulder.

First he pulls up the video from the diner we just watched, looking at the truck himself and then he goes into another file to pull longer footage from their cameras.

"Right there!" I shout, pointing at the screen and looking between the men. He'd backed up the reel to Amie arriving at work that morning. We watch her park at the curb, pull down the visor to check her makeup in the mirror and then send a text on her phone before getting out and walking inside of the diner and starting her shift.

We had to watch for a few minutes but finally, three minutes after Amie walked inside, the truck pulls up the road, slowly coasting passed the diner and the back of Amie's car.

A couple minutes more, it comes back up the road, driving by slowly again before turning and parking in the lot across the road. Front bumper facing the diner.